


Panic In The Nothingness

by Zai42



Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: Anal, Angry Sex, Choking, Forced Orgasm, Frottage, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Rough Oral Sex, Tentacle Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 06:56:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14868893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zai42/pseuds/Zai42
Summary: Something lurks in The Nothingness. The Batter meets it.





	Panic In The Nothingness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShamanicShaymin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShamanicShaymin/gifts).



> Happy Nonconathon! <3

What passed for air in The Nothingness was slick with humidity, the kind of heavy dampness that pressed into your airways and soaked into your lungs, thick and unpleasant and inescapable. The Batter did not care, because The Batter had a mission, and he would not be deterred from it by something so mundane as the weather; and so he slipped once more into the empty space between Zones, heedless of the whispers that oozed from nowhere like blood from a wound.

  
The first time he felt something curl wetly around his ankle, he didn't even bother to draw his weapon; he kicked himself free and crushed whatever had grasped at him beneath his heel, his lip curling in distaste as he watched it slink back into the void. Time was strange in The Nothingness, so it may have been hours or only a moment, but before The Batter could take his leave, the darkness around him shuddered, then warped, then surged towards him at high speed. He closed his fist around his bat at the same moment a thick black tendril slammed into his abdomen.

  
Breathless and knocked prone, The Batter snarled and lashed out, landing a satisfyingly solid hit on one of the tendrils and giving himself a moment to stagger to his feet. He wiped blood from his nose, rolled his bat loosely in his palm, and glared at the mass of tentacles undulating before him. "I am The Batter," he said, "and I am here to--"

  
The tentacles heaved forward as one, and The Batter swung his weapon in a wide arc. For every heavy tendril he knocked aside, two more seemed to rise up to take its place, slithering like vermin from the darkness. Even with his Add-Ons slicing through the monstrous limbs, it wasn't long before he found himself overwhelmed. A tentacle coiled around his ankle, more tightly than before, and yanked his feet out from under him, dragging him, kicking and struggling, towards the roiling mess of tentacles. Soon others joined it, wrapping around his wrists and limbs and waist while he cursed and squirmed in their grasp, still trying in vain to swing his weapon. Eventually a tentacle wrenched the bat from his grasp, and The Batter found himself helpless.

  
The tentacles dragged him up into the open air as he twisted fruitlessly in their grasp. Even up close, he could not make out their point of origin; they writhed and rippled in a way that made it hard to focus on them. Even so, The Batter got the impression that they were holding him up for something to inspect him, so he fixed his haughty gaze where he thought the center mass might be and said, "I am here to purge evil from this world, and you--"

  
A tentacle shoved itself into his open mouth. The Batter immediately bit down, rage pulsing in his veins and clouding his vision. The tentacle didn't seem to be particularly bothered, but a second wrapped itself around The Batter's neck and tightened, in slow but pointed increments, until he loosened his jaw and allowed the tentacle to press deeper into his throat. The Batter seethed, tugging against his bonds until his muscles trembled with the effort, but the tendrils didn't so much as budge. His Add-Ons hovered placidly nearby, awaiting orders he could not give them.

  
The tentacle in his mouth began to move in long, slow thrusts while The Batter snarled around it, making no effort to keep his teeth from scraping against it. Slick fluid oozed from the tentacle's tip--The Batter steadfastly refused to swallow, instead letting it drool from the corner of his mouth. He tilted his head back to try and ease some of the pressure, but the tentacles shifted with him, pressing deeper, stretching his lips wider, until soon The Batter was gagging with every thrust, tears springing to his eyes as his gag reflex kicked in.

  
The Batter felt the tentacles wrapped around his ankles trying to tug his legs open; he growled and pressed his thighs together, and for a moment he even thought it had worked as the tentacles stopped pulling at him. Then something pressed against his ass (he made a muffled noise of furious protest, and the tendril in his mouth shoved itself unceremoniously down his throat until he choked on it) and wriggled between his thighs. The Batter squirmed as the tentacle forced its way into the tight space between his thighs and began to thrust, quickly soaking his pants through with the slick substance leaking from it. The wet fabric clung to his skin, and The Batter could feel the tentacle dragging along his legs--almost a caress, but far too impersonal for it.

  
He struggled, writhing in the sinuous grip of the tendrils, but they only pressed closer, grew bolder in their touches as his helplessness became apparent. The tentacle between his legs squirmed higher, pressing firmly against The Batter's balls, and a jolt of sensation ran up his spine. He made a choked noise around the tentacle in his mouth; the tendril around his waist tightened, then, slowly, shifted in order to drag him along the tentacle between his thighs, moving in tandem with it to create an agonizing friction. The Batter twisted uselessly, an incensed noise rising in his throat as his cock twitched. His hands clenched into fists in their bonds.

  
More tendrils pressed against him; some wormed their way beneath his clothes, eager to touch bare flesh; others joined the tentacle between his legs, forcing his thighs farther apart. The Batter's hips jolted, grinding against the slowly increasing pressure on his hardening cock. He fought to stay still, but the tendrils between his legs moved in a pulsing wave, and he couldn't stop the slow roll of his hips, riding the tentacles, not even noticing that he had inched his legs open to accommodate them.

  
The tendril in his mouth twitched suddenly, then released a hot gush of fluid down The Batter's throat. He sputtered as the tentacle withdrew, jerking forward and coughing up slime. His lips and tongue tingled where the fluid clung to them. Before he could catch his breath, a new tentacle shoved forward. The Batter's throat spasmed around it and he finally swallowed, rather than choke; the fluid burned on the way down, and the tingling sensation spread to his extremities as it settled in his belly.

  
Beneath his clothes, a tendril had coiled around his cock, massaging it in pulsing coils, and The Batter trembled, thick waves of pleasure crashing over him. He dug his nails into the palms of his hands, trying to focus on the pinpricks of pain to stave off orgasm.

  
He needn't have worried--another tentacle joined the first, wrapping itself tightly around the base of his cock and sac, strangling his orgasm and drawing a choked cry from The Batter.

  
The first tentacle to press into his ass was thin and flexible, just enough of a stretch to make The Batter suck in a shaky breath, but soon it was joined by a second, then a third--none of them more than the width of a finger, but they forced their way into him more quickly than he could adjust to their presence. They pumped in and out of him, out of sync with each other, a rapid staccato of mind-numbing thrusts, one then two then three then one. Meanwhile, the tentacles between his thighs and wrapped around his cock sped up, squeezing and pressing and thrusting against him. His cock throbbed in the iron grip of the tendril locked around it.

  
The Batter did not realize he had started to moan until the tentacle in his mouth pulled back and he could hear himself. Furious and mortified, he bit his tongue; the tentacle that had been occupying his mouth drenched his face with fluid, and The Batter sputtered and shook head head, blinking to try and clear his eyes. He glared through lashes sticky with slime, clenching his teeth against further intrusion; when a fourth tentacle forced its way into him with no warning, his jaw fell open and a tentacle immediately filled his mouth.

  
The tentacle around his cock did not relent in its grip, holding him in check as the others used him. The tentacles in his ass filled him up with the same substance that had filled his mouth and coated his face; they were replaced as fast as they left, this time by one large tentacle that slid into him with alarmingly little resistance, the way slicked and fucked loose. All the while The Batter's struggles became less like struggles and more like desperate rutting, his face flushed even as he bore down on the tentacles squirming between his legs.

  
Time was strange in The Nothingness. The Batter hung suspended on the brink of orgasm for minutes or hours or days, countless tentacles using him, stuffing him full, pumping load after load into him, all while his balls ached with the need to come.

  
Finally, _finally,_ the tentacle strangling his balls loosened, and The Batter immediately came with a thick moan, while two tentacles fucked his ass and one plunged deeper into his mouth. For long moments he rode out his orgasm, humping blindly against the thick mass of tentacles between his legs, riding the tentacles in his ass, his cock twitching madly. The tentacles slowly, gently, lowered their exhausted prey down even as he still shuddered through the aftershocks, easing out of him, running along his body with surprising tenderness. They hovered around him as The Batter caught his breath and struggled to his feet; a tentacle offered him his bat, and he used it to level himself into a standing position.

  
There was a heavy silence, and then an awful shrieking as The Batter swung his weapon with keen anger flashing in his eyes. He crushed the tendrils beneath his bat, barked out hoarse orders to his Add-Ons, and the creature flailed wildly, apparently taken by surprise, until it was little more than a bloodied pulp, fading slowly into The Nothingness.

  
The Batter panted, watching the mass of tendrils as they disappeared into the dark. He spat a mouthful of saliva and slime and blood, wiped his face as clean as he could, and let out a noise of vague distaste. And with that, he continued stiffly on his way, because The Batter was on a mission, and would not be deterred from it.


End file.
